“No,”
Al said. “I ain’t gettin’ on that thing. I don’t like trains, but I especially
don’t like that one. I’ll walk. I feel more than up to it, thanks to your boss
man’s medicine.”

“And
by the time you get there, those kids will likely be dead.”

“That
mutt said we had hours.”

“The
train will take minutes.”

“I’ll
catch up.”

“You’ll
get on the train.”

“Make
me.”

Dodger
rolled up his sleeves.

“I
swear, Rodger,” Al said. “You lay one hand on me, and I will break you in two.”

Dodger
growled. “Get. On. The. Train.”

“Who
wants pie?” Feng asked from the meeting-cab doorway.

Al
sniffed. “That pecan?”

“Sure
is.”

“My
favorite.”

“I
know.”

“Been
years since I had it.”

“I
know.”

Feng
pulled the pie, and its delicious aroma, into the cab, leading Al by the nose
as he boarded behind the Celestial. Dodger repressed a snicker and climbed in
behind them.

“Welcome
aboard,” the doc said. He held his arm out to the others in the cab. “Let me
introduce the rest of the crew. This is Feng, our resident cook.”

“Nice
to meet you,” Al said, and licked his lips as he glanced back down at the pie.

Feng
wasted no time in serving the man up a slice.

“Ched,”
the doc said, “you’ve met already.”

Ched
tipped the brim of his cap, but Al wasn’t interested. His sole focus was on
that steaming slice of heaven. He scooped away a huge bit and brought the spoon
to his wrinkled lips.

“And
last but not least,” the doc said. “My lab assistant and niece, Lelanea
Dittmeyer.”

Al
finally glanced up, that scoop of pecan pie lingering at his open mouth as he
raised his eyebrows and stared at the beautiful niece of the doc.

Lelanea
smiled and gave a small dip of a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure and an honor to meet
you, Mr. Jackson.”

“Pleasure
is all mine,” Al said, then stuffed the pie into his mouth with a wide grin. A
moan rose from the old man as his eyes all but rolled to whites with delight.

“I
take it you like it?” Feng asked.

“It’s
amazing.”

“Thanks.
The secret is in the crust.”

“And
what is the secret?”

“In
the crust.” Feng winked.

Al
poked his spoon at Feng and laughed. “You, I like.” He returned to scooping the
pie into his face. It was gone in seconds. “That was great. Now, if you don’t
mind, I will be on my way. I got a long walk.”

“We’ve
already departed,” Dodger said. He hooked a thumb to the speaking tubes beside
him. “I gave the word to Torque the moment we boarded.”

Al
whipped about to stare out of the window at the passing scenery. “It don’t feel
like we’re movin’ at all.”

“Thank
you very much, sir,” the doc said. “These buffoons have gotten used to her
movement, and they complain at every bump and turn. It is nice to hear someone
appreciate her for what she is.”

Mr.
Torque’s tinny voice whistled through the speaking tubes. “We should arrive at
your coordinates in approximately fifteen minutes.”

Al
jumped at the disembodied voice.

“It’s
all right,” Dodger said. “The tubes allow us to speak to each other from
different cabs and rooms.”

“Well,
I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Al said.

“Why?”
the doc asked.

“Why
what?”

“Why
would you want to be a monkey’s-”

“Figure
of speech, doc,” Dodger said.

The
doc puffed his cheeks with a huff. “Ah, a colloquialism.”

“Right,”
Dodger said. “Al, take a seat and help me fill them in on what’s going on. We
don’t have long.”

Al
parked himself beside Lelanea, to Boon’s obvious discomfort. But to be fair,
the old man couldn’t see the ghost. He didn’t know that the shape-shifter was
in love with the spirit either. Or that Ched wasn’t quite alive but not quite
dead. Or that the professor couldn’t settle down because no one wanted him near
their town for the supernatural trouble he attracted. Or that Feng was an
ageless, time-traveling magician. Dodger couldn’t explain it all right now.
Such things would have to wait until they were done with Coffin Keep. The idea
of that made Dodger smile. Would Al join up with them? Or would he want to stay
behind once he had the kids safe and sound again? Dodger wasn’t sure which he
hoped for more.

It
only took a few minutes of rushed description to catch the others up.

“What
do we do now?” Boon asked, standing protectively by Lelanea’s side, hand
lingering in the air near her shoulder.

Dodger
glanced to him, to Al, then to Lelanea. He raised his eyebrows.

She
took the hint and asked the same question aloud, for Al’s benefit.

“As
soon as we get there,” Dodger said, “I’ll go after them.”

“We’ll go after them,” Al said.

“Ish
that wishe?” Ched asked.

“No,
sir,” Dodger said. “It isn’t wise, nor is it happening. You stay here, Al, and
help them guard the line. They need you here. I can handle this on my own.”

Al
scowled at the command. “You brought me with you because you claimed you needed
me there. I ain’t lettin’ you go on your own, son.”

“I
don’t need your help.”

“Yes
you do. You’re pretty fired up right now, and so am I. Anybody can become angry;
that’s easy. But to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, at
the right time, for the right purpose and in the right way, that’s not within
everybody’s power, and it’s not easy.”

“That
was a very wise observation,” the doc said.

“It
should’ve been,” Dodger said. “Aristotle said it about twelve hundred years
ago.”

“Ah.
I see where you get the habit now.”

“My
point,” Al said, “is that you need me to help keep you focused.”

“I’ve
been focused on my own for twenty-something years,” Dodger said.

“Pardon
me sayin’ this, boy, but look where that’s gotcha.”

Everyone
squirmed at the retort, looking everywhere but at Dodger.

“All
right,” Dodger said. “Fine. Since you know so much about everything, you can
come with me. Just don’t get in my way.”

Al
chuckled as he elbowed Lelanea. “And he says I ain’t changed. He sounds the
same as he did when he was just a boy.”

“I
guessed as much,” Lelanea said. She linked her arm through his elbow, bringing
the old man to a wider grin. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but don’t you worry
about the danger of such a mission? I would think such things were a young
man’s game.”

“You
mean to say, ain’t I a bit old for this sort of thing?”

Lelanea
lowered her eyes and smirked. “Yes, sir. I’m afraid you caught me in a most
embarrassing question.”

Al
pulled her closer and patted her hand. “A pretty young thing like you might
think of me as old, but just ‘cause there is snow on the rooftop don’t mean
there ain’t fire in my furnace.”

“I
am sure you have loads of such fire, Mr. Jackson.”

“Call
me Al.”

“When
you get back, Al, you must tell us all about Dodger’s youth. We’ve found that
he is a bit reserved about such things.”

“Al,”
Dodger warned. “Don’t you even think about it.”

Al
nodded, all serious and proper, at Dodger, then turned to Lelanea and winked.

Lelanea
laughed softly. “Mr. Dodger, can I have a word with you for a moment? It’s
concerning the primer.” She leaned against Al to say in a lower voice, “Boring
stuff, I’m afraid. Why don’t you go and have another piece of pie while I speak
with your pupil?”

“That
sounds like a fine idea, ma’am.” Al reluctantly released his grip on Lelanea,
and scurried to the opposite end of the cab for more pie.

Lelanea
patted the couch beside her and smiled far too wide for a woman who rarely even
grinned. This didn’t bode well. Dodger eased down next to her, preparing
himself for a tongue lashing of the unpleasant variety. Sure enough, the moment
he sat, she leaned in close and began berating him for allowing Al to come
along.

“This
is unacceptable,” she fussed in a clipped whisper. “You can’t be serious about
taking him with you.”

“I
don’t think I can talk him out of it,” Dodger whispered in return.

“The
man is in his eighties,” Boon said. “Old folks shouldn’t be traipsing about on
adventures.”

Lelanea
gave a soft huff and crossed her arms, flaring her nostrils at the spirit.

“Oh
come now,” Boon said. “That man is relatively three times your age, even if he
is less than half.”

Dodger
blinked in surprise. Just how old was this supposed niece of the doc? Dodger
stored the question and new information for a later discussion.

“I
only mean,” Boon said, “that he’s going to get himself killed.”

“Or
someone else,” Lelanea said.

“As
much as I don’t want him to come along,” Dodger said. “It isn’t a lack of ability
that makes him a liability.” Dodger pointed across the cab at Al, who was deep
in a pie-related discussion with Feng and the doc. “I am willing to bet that he
can still shoot better in his sleep than most men wide awake.”

“At
his age?”

Dodger
picked up an empty teacup from the table beside the couch. He weighed it in his
hand for a moment, then reared back and threw it at Al for all he was worth.
Lelanea gasped as the cup made a bee line for Al’s skull. Just as the
projectile was about to strike the old man’s hard head, Al reached up and
caught the cup, without even looking in Dodger’s direction. Al then placed the
cup on the pie trolley, all the while never breaking stride in his conversation
concerning the perfect pecan pie.

“Ah,”
Boon said. “I see now.”

“My
apologies,” Lelanea said.

“Apology
accepted,” Al said, grinning at her and Dodger a moment before he returned to
his discussion.

“Did
I forget to mention that he has always had excellent hearing?” Dodger asked in
a whisper.

Lelanea
narrowed her eyes, but neither she nor the spirit had more to say on the
matter.

The
train slowed just as Mr. Torque announced their arrival.

“That
was fast,” the doc said. “I’m afraid I wasted Mr. Jackson’s time with pie talk
instead of allowing him to prepare himself.”

“No
worries,” Al said. “I got all the preppin’ I need right here.” He touched his
hands to the old Colts parked on his hips.

“Yes,
I see that. And while those antiques are just lovely, may I offer you a fresher
pair?”

“I
only meant a newer pair. I have variety of weaponry I would be more than glad
to-”

“You
mean like his guns?” Al asked, pointing to Dodger. “Because if that’s the case,
then not just no, but hell no. I can make do with my own. I always have.”

“But
I only meant to offer my help-”

Dodger
laid a hand on the doc’s shoulder, calming him. “It’s okay, sir. Al is set in
his ways. Besides, we don’t have time to show him how to work one of your fancy
weapons.”

“You
can’t teach an old dog new tricksh,” Ched added.

“Old
dog?” Al asked. “Ain’t you just a rude pup.”

“Enough
pleasantries,” Dodger said. “We got to go. The rest of you stay put and hold
down the fort.”

“Shall
I join you?” Boon asked.

Please, Dodger said to
Boon. Aloud, he added, “Miss Lelanea, you give us twenty minutes. If we don’t
return or you don’t hear the sound of gunfire, then you know what to do.”

“I
understand,” Lelanea said aloud.

“I
don’t,” Boon said.

Twenty minutes, she said in
underspeak. Then I’ll come after you
three.

Good girl, Dodger answered
with a grin. He hadn’t been sure she could underspeak. That might come in all
kinds of handy. When I get back, we need
to talk a bit about your condition. All of it. I would like to know exactly
what you can do, in case I need you.

I agree. The time for secrets has
passed. That goes for yours as well. For instance, what in the world did this
man train you to do at such a young age?

“You
two done moonin’ over each other?” Al asked. “Or should the rest of us go and
get those kids while you stare into each other’s eyes a bit longer?”

“I
wash wonderin’ the shame thing,” Ched said.

“As
was I,” Boon said.

Lelanea
smirked. “They’re just jealous because you have eyes worthy of staring into,
Mr. Dodger.”

“As
do you,” Dodger said before he could help himself.

Feng
and Ched chuckled.

Boon
did not.

Clearing
his throat overdramatically, Dodger made for the door. “Let’s get on our way
before I say something I’ll really regret.”

“I
wish you would,” the doc said. “Because I’m afraid I have no clue as to what
just happened here.”

As he and Al disembarked, there came a whisper
of conversation behind them as Lelanea and Feng explained to the professor just
how underspeak worked.